


Round One

by Kellyscams



Series: Kells' Fic Fest [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Aneros, Begging, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Teasing, Top Steve Rogers, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve getting Bucky all hot and bothered and ties him up and then sticks an aneros up his ass and tells him not to come. Then he just watches Bucky writhe and sketches him. After a while Bucky's begging incoherently, and eventually he can't hold on anymore and right before he tips over the edge, Steve gives him permission to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round One

It starts off innocent enough. These things usually do. 

The early morning slap to Bucky’s ass as he leaned over the counter begging the coffee maker to brew faster doesn’t really make him think anything other than Steve Rogers is an asshole who isn’t considerate enough to wait for him to have his morning coffee. Bucky grunts in response and maybe grumbles something about Steve being an ass, and Steve smirks -- bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. 

Funny thing is, Bucky used to be the morning person. Not that he particularly _enjoyed_ getting up early. But after a stretch and a yawn and sometimes a few morning strokes, he’d get out of bed and just get the day started while Steve would huff and gripe -- sometimes until Bucky would literally toss him over his shoulder to get him up. It’s the total opposite now, and there’re times Bucky finds himself over Steve’s shoulder. How the tides of turned. No one ever said war and supersoldier serums and brainwashing wouldn’t change a few things. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Steve says cheerfully when Bucky ambles over to the kitchen table with his trusty ‘I-heart-NY’ mug filled with coffee and about a pound of sugar added to it. “Sleep well?”

Bucky plops down and first takes the last strip of bacon on Steve’s plate and stuffing it in his mouth. He ignores the look on Steve’s face. 

“Okay,” he answers with his mouth full. “What’re we doing again today?” 

“Uh, tactical meeting in an hour.”

Bucky groans. Tactical meetings -- any kinds of meetings really -- are the worst. In theory, they should take about an hour. In reality, they take at least three. In Bucky’s opinion, they feel like six. 

“Can’t we just skip it?” Steve just shrugs to that and then rises from the table to bring the rest of the dishes to the sink. “Is that… a yes?” 

Doubtful. Steve never lets them skip out on meetings even though he was the little scrap that used’ta leave early when they were in school together. 

“No,” Steve replies, just like Bucky suspected. But then Steve turns, and _that’s_ when Bucky catches the sparkle in his eyes and the smirk on his mouth. “We’re going to the meeting.”

No one else would notice it. Or, if they did, they’d attribute it to Captain America’s wholesome and happy attitude. But… that’s all Bucky needs to see to know that slap from early wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. 

Bucky normally sleeps with his eyes open during meetings. Not today. Today, he’s way too on edge. Steve hasn’t said or done anything unusual, but Bucky can always tell when he’s in a mischevious and frisky mood. And that look he gave him back at home said it all. Which means, when Steve’s hand comes to rest on his thigh, every muscle in Bucky’s body pulls taut. 

Still innocent but… Steve just _leaves_ his hand there and Bucky knows, damn it, he _knows_ that Steve is fucking with him. Even though his expression has remained neutral and all he does is casually gives Bucky’s thigh a soft rub every now and then. That doesn’t stop the air from getting too hot and Bucky’s heart from pounding and by the time the six hours -- three, but it still feels like six to Bucky -- are over, Bucky’s hard as a rock. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks when Bucky throws himself into the elevator. 

He needs to get home. Fast. Now. Yesterday. And Steve, the little shit, is still watching him with that too pure look of his. 

“You _know_ what’s wrong, Steve,” he grunts. 

That smirk dances on Steve’s lips again. “I do?”

Stepping up closer, Steve backs Bucky into the corner and slams his mouth into his. The second he grinds against him, Bucky is whimpering. Instead of having the elevator take them down so they can go home, Steve asks JARVIS to bring them to their suite right here in the Tower. Fucked if Bucky cares. He just needs to get off and get off fast. 

When the doors open, Steve grabs Bucky by the front of his shirt to pull him out with him, leaving their lips together as he goes on to palm the bulge trying so hard to get out of Bucky’s pants. Steve drags him to the bedroom and shoves him down on the bed. Bucky’s already pulling his clothes off cause if he doesn’t get Steve all over him now he might burst. But Steve… Steve just stands there once Bucky is naked. 

“What…” Oh… this isn’t good. “What’re you doing?”

“Lay back,” Steve murmurs. “And just relax. We’re gonna have some fun.”

Which usually translates to Bucky begging and pleading and sobbing while Steve keeps the glorious torture going more and more. 

Bucky whimpers, but lays down for Steve anyway and doesn’t argue when Steve pulls out the ropes. Asgardian made. A chill runs down Bucky’s spine. If Steve is bringing _that_ out, it means whatever he has planned is going to have Bucky tugging long and hard and Steve doesn’t want him to break out like he can with other restraints. It _also_ means that whatever Steve has in mind is something that’s going to make it impossible for Bucky to keep from not breaking them. 

Once Steve gets Bucky’s wrists tied to the bed, he knots the rope around his ankles, but doesn’t attach them. 

“Not yet,” he murmurs as he shoves Bucky’s knees up and is suddenly diving in and lapping at Bucky’s ass. 

“Steve!” Bucky shouts, and then just breaks off into a series of grunts and moans.

His head tilts back into the pillows as Steve fucks him with his tongue. He’s relentless. Never once pulls his tongue away as he gets a fire burning hot and powerful in Bucky’s belly. Somewhere in there, Steve slips fingers in and Bucky shakes and twists with their insertion. Steve lets it slide in and out, but doesn’t catch Bucky’s prostate. Normally, Bucky might wonder why because he can so easily but all he cares about right now are the tremors that run through him and the tightness in his muscles and the molten gold that rushes through him with each thrust of Steve’s tongue and fingers. 

Bucky’s getting closer and closer when Steve moves away. Eyes popping open, Bucky’s about to whine -- maybe even beg a little -- when he sees Steve take out something else. Where he got it from is beyond Bucky’s current state of thinking, but now Steve lubing up the aneros and Bucky doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. 

On one hand, that thing stimulates _every_ spot between his legs all at once and the damn orgasms are fucking _explosive_. On the other hand, Steve has him strapped down and made the _we’re gonna have fun_ remark. 

As if sensing the dilemma running through Bucky now, Steve flicks his eyebrows up and grins before leaning over Bucky and starting to push the thing inside of him. 

“Oh _fuck_...” Bucky breathes as it makes its way into his body. 

He can hear Steve’s low, heated chuckle as he shoves it the rest of the way in and Bucky releases a jubilant cry as his prostate is finally touched and stars flash in front of his eyes. The toy is already massaging every perfect spot -- sweet and gentle and just so fucking perfect -- as Steve takes to tying the ropes around Bucky’s ankles to the bed. 

Just when Bucky is settling into the sweet, amazing pleasure -- with his muscles twitching involuntarily and making the toy all the more effective -- Steve crawls over him. 

“Feel good, baby?” he asks.

“Mhm…” 

“Good. Do _not_ come.”

Ice runs through Bucky’s veins at such an outrageous demand. His eyes grow wide and round. His jaw drops. Steve can’t… he _can’t_ be serious. 

“No…” Bucky whispers. “Oh, please, Steve… not… don’t make me… oh _please_.”

All Steve does is move away to go sit on the chair across the room. There, he picks up a sketchbook and pencil, and lets his eyes drift back to Bucky. Dark and heated, and Bucky knows he’s serious. 

There’s only one thing Bucky can do. He tries to still every inch of his body. Stay immobile so that the stimulation isn’t as much. Which… after just a few minutes, Bucky knows is a doomed effort. No matter what he does, his muscles twitch and jerk about and the aneros keeps on massaging until all that’s left to do is writhe and squirm against the restraints and try to keep this growing orgasm back. His hands open wildly as they search for some sort of grip around the ropes that will give him… something. He doesn’t even know _what_ , he’s just doing it. 

No matter how hard he pleads with Steve to let him come _oh please let me come… please…_ Steve just goes on sketching him. Bucky could always say Red. Shout it out and finally get the release he’s so desperate for, but no. No, this is so fucking tormenting and he hates it, he does, he _swears_ it as he curses Steve to Hell, but dear _God_ is it amazing. 

It’s when his body is on fire -- seriously engulfed in flames -- and tears are leaking out of his tightly squeezed eyes and the only sounds he’s capable of making are these pained, strangled noises that keep getting stuck in his throat that Bucky’s sure he’s going to blow it. He’s begging -- trying to since there’s nothing left of his voice to make words -- but he’s begging for release. He needs it, oh _fuck_ , he needs it so bad. It’s there. This orgasm that’s been _begging_ for release probably since that first completely _not_ innocent slap from this morning is going to consume him and who _knows_ what Steve has in store for him if he does that. 

A voice breaks through the haze and clouds of held back ecstasy that swarms his mind. Angels and devils all wrapped into one. 

“Come, Bucky,” Steve growls. “Now. Let it go.” 

Bucky does. With a scream and an arch of his back it bursts through him hard and fast, and it’s not until Steve chuckles and touches his cock that Bucky realizes he’s still hard. His hard on hasn’t subsided and… Steve isn’t done.

“God you’re so beautiful,” Steve murmurs. He’s hovered over him and presses a kiss into Bucky’s lips. “You ready for round two?”

Body trembling and breaths quick and hard, Bucky gazes up at him with a flick of his eyebrows. 

“Fuck, yes.”


End file.
